


The Targets We Paint

by ephemeralstark



Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bombs, Death Threats, Gen, Gun Violence, Hostage Situations, Hurt Peter Parker, Injury, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Violence, Weapons, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26799709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstark/pseuds/ephemeralstark
Summary: “Do you really think walking into Stark Industries with a handcuffed kid is a good idea?” Peter asked, “because the second you get in there, someone will alert the emergency services, you won’t get far.”“You’re wrong,” and even though Peter knew he wasn't, the complete lack of concern in the man’s voice was causing him mild anxiety.“Well we’ll see, won’t we?” the man asked, not remaining silent for long, “we'll see who’s worrying about calling the cops when I’m threatening to blow your brains all over their pristine white floors.”Peter swallowed, hard, “shows how prepared you are,”  he said with false bravado, “the floors in the main atrium are black marble.”-Peter knew being Spider-Man put a target on him, but it was a risk he was willing to take for the safety of the citizens of Queens. He just never considered how dangerous it could be to be Peter Parker.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949887
Comments: 33
Kudos: 351





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober day 3: prompt - held at gunpoint

“You’re an idiot,” Peter declared as he tugged on the cuff that was wrapped around his wrist and connected to the steel bar that had been installed in the car by someone who had prepared for this, the jagged spikes in the cuff dug into his skin and caused red to appear, “your plan is stupid.” 

“Shut up,” came the monotonous reply. 

“Do you really think walking into Stark Industries with a handcuffed kid is a good idea?” Peter asked, “because the second you get in there, someone will alert the emergency services, you won’t get far.” 

“You’re wrong,” and even though Peter knew he wasn't, the complete lack of concern in the man’s voice was causing him mild anxiety.

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” the man asked, not remaining silent for long, “we'll see who’s worrying about calling the cops when I’m threatening to blow your brains all over their pristine white floors.” 

Peter swallowed, hard, “shows how prepared you are,” he said with false bravado, “the floors in the main atrium are black marble.” 

“Are you trying to be funny right now?” the man asked, whirling around and shoving a gun in Peter’s face. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” he shouted, “keep your eyes on the road!” 

“Are you seriously trying to tell me what to do?” the man asked, although to his credit he did turn back to the road and place his second hand back on the steering wheel, even though he didn't release the gun. 

“No, man, I’m just trying to tell you that your plan is deeply flawed,” Peter said with a light shrug as he resumed his efforts in tugging at the handcuffs.

It still hurt, the sharp points were still gouging into his flesh and causing rivulets of blood to run down his forearm, what kind of weird torture car did this dude have? Did he just drive around kidnapping teenagers? And why? 

“Hey, man, this deeply flawed plan,” Peter said, speaking up once more, “why exactly has it come about? Like what do you feel you’ll gain from this?” 

“Why should I tell you?” 

“Well, I mean, you are planning to threaten to blow my brains out,” Peter said with a shrug, “it would be nice to know why.” 

“Shut up,” was all Peter got in response. 

Naturally, he wasn't one to stop questioning things even when there was a gun brought into the situation, “but seriously, like don’t you have back-up?” 

“You’re a fifteen-year-old brat, I don't need back-up,” the man said with a humourless snort.

I mean, credit where it was due, the man had successfully snuck up on him and knocked him out before his Spidey-Sense could tell him to watch out for danger, and he had been smart enough to use cuffs that Peter couldn't escape - although there had been no mentions of Spider-Man so Peter was calling that a coincidence rather than accurate preparation. 

“I work with Mr. Stark and he’s part of The Avengers, how do you know I haven't met The Black Widow and been taught how to fight?” Peter questioned because he had and she had given him many lessons, the guy should at least be warned of that, it was only fair. 

“Come on, Kid, we both know that all you do is fetch Tony Stark’s coffee and carry his files around for him,” the man said. 

“Alright, then what use am I to you?” Peter wondered, “if Mr. Stark doesn't give me anything important to do, why bother kidnapping me?” 

“Because he has a renowned guilt complex,” the man said, finally revealing something useful. 

So this man knew enough about Tony Stark to be aware that he was honourable and emotional despite what the public and the media often portrayed him as, so what? Was he a potential past employee? He didn't know much about Peter’s role in the company so however he was getting his information, it had stopped. He had been cut off from his source. 

“Is this about money?” Peter asked. 

“Do you ever shut up?” 

“It’s funny, Mr. Stark has actually asked that exact same question about thirty times,” Peter said, “it’s like you two are on the same wavelength, hey! Did you intern for Mr. Stark too?” 

“Intern?” the man seemed to choke on the word as though he had been offended by the insinuation.

“Yeah, I mean it makes sense,” Peter said, “did you work for him before me? Is that why you’re mad?” 

“Wha- listen, Kid, shut the fuck up, alright?” the man snapped, “you’re starting to prove to be more work than you’re worth.”

“So this  _ is  _ about money?” Peter asked. 

“Does it matter?” 

“Kinda, yeah,” Peter decided. 

The man breaked harshly and Peter looked out the window, surprised to see they were stopped on the street outside Stark Industries. 

“Have you considered what you’re going to do if Mr. Stark isn't actually here?” Peter asked, “because that seems like it would probably be an issue.” 

He didn't say anything, he merely climbed out of the care and opened the passenger side, he undid the cuff that was attached to the metal pole and stuck it on Peter’s other wrist, the spikes digging in harshly as they were tightened more than necessary - yeah, Peter had likely hit a nerve… or five. 

“I don't think you’re allowed to park there,” Peter mumbled as he was shoved forward, he instantly stumbled and tried to regain his balance so that he wasn't knocked face down onto the ground. 

“What did I say about shutting up?” the man growled in his ear, man, he really needed to brush his teeth or take a breath mint. 

“Uh, to do it?” Peter asked.

“Exactly.”

“Hey, guys,” one of the security guards called, “you need to enter through the metal detectors please, it’s for everyone’s safety.”

“They’re going to catch you,” Peter said. 

“Did you ever consider that I don’t care?” 

“What do you-” Peter broke off as he was shoved forwards through the metal detector and it instantly started to blare and lights flashed.

“Uh, guys, can I ask you both to step to the side please?” the security guard asked as he started to approach. 

“Don't move!” the man holding Peter yelled, and he couldn't help but let his eyes close as he felt the cold metal of the gun’s barrel dig into his temple.

“Sir, drop the gun!” 

“I want Tony Stark,” the man demanded, ignoring the instructions and Peter felt the gun tremble slightly although judging by his tone of voice it was with anger rather than nerves. 

Maybe it had been a mistake to constantly nag him with questions in the car. 

“You don't get anything until you release the child and drop your weapon.” 

“I want Tony Stark otherwise I’m going to blow his intern’s brains out all over this damned floor!”

_ “Boss has been alerted that Mr. Parker is in danger,”  _ F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s smooth lilting voice said, breaking through the tension that was coursing through Peter’s shoulders with ease. 

“Who was that?” the man asked, waving the gun around quickly, briefly aiming it at any woman he could see before panicking and digging it back into the side of Peter’s head - he could only hope the man didn't freak out completely and accidentally pull the trigger, was the safety on or off? 

“It’s Mr. Stark’s A.I.,” Peter said, “she monitors the entire building.” 

“Turn her off!” 

“I can’t,” Peter said, “no one can.”

“I said turn her the fuck off,” the man said, violently shaking Peter, “otherwise you won’t be the only one who dies here.” 

“I  _ can't.”  _

“I won’t ask again,” the man said, his voice taking on a dangerous tenor and Peter wondered if it was time for him to start saying his mental goodbyes to everyone he loved. 

“Hey, fuckwit,” a familiar called as the man himself sauntered out of the elevator, his blue shades sitting on his face as though he were walking into a press meeting and not a dangerous situation, “my kid already told you, he can't turn her off, now why don't you let him go and before I kick your ass and I’ll give you ten seconds to explain why the hell you thought going after him was a good idea?” 

“Stark.” 

“I would return the sentiment but I’m afraid I don’t know who you are,” Mr. Stark said as he brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his suit and sauntered forward. 

To the regular person, it would appear that the billionaire was unaffected by what he was seeing, however, Peter could see the routine clenching and unclenching of his jaw, and how his hands were occasionally curling into fists before the man seemingly reminded himself that he was trying to appear nonchalant. 

“You know who I am,” the man said, digging the gun in harder, Peter was sure he was going to have an imprint in his skin once it was removed, “I know you know!” 

“I can’t say I do,” Mr. Stark said with a shrug, he was close enough now that Peter’s enhanced sight allowed him to see through the tinted glasses - his eyes were creased in worry, “although I do know one thing - and that’s that there’s a red cable sticking out from under your shirt, you’re carrying a bomb, aren’t you?” 

Mr. Stark was scared, the situation was not controlled, and that was enough to make Peter’s heart drop into his stomach. This was worse than he had thought and he was pretty sure he should definitely not have wound the man up by talking incessantly in the car. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whumptober day 4 prompt - collapsed building

To Peter’s horrified surprised the man who was holding him started to laugh, and not a fake sarcastic laugh, but a full-bellied, shoulder shaking guffaw that made the gun against Peter’s temple shake, he could  _ hear  _ the bullets inside tremble. There was no more innocent hope that the weapon hadn't been loaded. 

“Everyone says you’re smart, and you really are, aren’t you?” the man asked. 

“Is this all an elaborate plan to test my intelligence?” Mr. Stark asked and Peter’s eyes jumped to his feet as he watched him slide a foot forward on the marble, trying to inch his way closer without being detected, “because I have to admit there are easier ways to go about that than holding my intern hostage. I’m a show-off, you just had to challenge me to an IQ test or something.” 

“Is this the part where you ask me to let him go?” the man asked idly, his tone so conversational as he ignored Mr. Stark that it sent shivers down Peter’s spine as his Spidey-Sense warned him that he wouldn't be walking out of this situation unscathed.

But what could he do? The man was holding the gun so tightly to his head that if he tried anything, there was a good chance he would be dead before he could so much as turn around.

“Why would I ask that?” Mr. Stark asked him. 

“Don't you care for his life?” the man asked. 

“I mean I’d rather you didn't kill him in front of all of these people,” Mr. Stark said with a small shrug, “and I have to admit that I’ve grown rather fond of his inane rambling, but you don't seem to care about that.”

“Beg me to release him,” the man said. 

“Is that what this is about?” Mr. Stark asked, inching closer once more. “Is this all just a power trip for you?” 

Peter felt the man holding him tense, “a  _ power trip?”  _ he asked, and it was obvious that he was unhappy about the phrasing. 

“Well, you’re walking into my building with my intern at gunpoint as you demand to speak with me, and the moment I turn up you want to hear me  _ beg _ ?” Mr. Stark said, “I have to admit, it seems a little power trippy.”

“This isn't a power trip,” oh, the man was speaking through gritted teeth now, Mr. Stark was definitely hitting a nerve somewhere. 

“Come on, wait, what’s your name? Is it Dave? You look like a Dave, we’re all going to call you Dave now, right kid?” Mr. Stark said. 

“Uh, he’s holding a gun to my head I don't think I want to do that,” Peter mumbled. 

“Come on, Kid, Dave knows there are at least five guns trained on him by now, if he does anything, he’ll be dead before he hits the ground,” Mr. Stark told him as though that was meant to be reassuring. 

“Maybe I don’t care about making it out alive,” Dave said, but Peter could feel his sudden tension that contradicted his words. 

“Oh, you do though,” Mr. Stark said, “otherwise that bomb would have been set off the moment I arrived in this atrium, you wouldn't be bothering to try and appear more powerful than me, you would have done it instantly and it would be attached to you rather than a device in your pocket.” 

“Stop… talking… about… power!” Dave said slowly through gritted teeth, the volume rising with each word that slipped out.

“You’re a little touchy on that aren’t you?” Mr. Stark asked.

“You keep trying to undermine me,” Dave snapped, “but who’s the one with a hostage right now?” 

“Oh, big deal, you kidnapped a fifteen-year-old, and a pretty lanky, dorky one,” Mr. Stark said, “pretty sure Peter has never done a sport in his life.” 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter said with an offended sniff, “I’m being held as a  _ hostage _ , are you really going to do me the dirty right now?” 

“Kid, come on, I had to pick you up last week because you tried to climb the rope and fell and somehow missed the mat?” Mr. Stark said, “like come on, that mat is huge, how did you miss? And how the hell did you fall?” 

“I was showing off,” Peter lied - he had actually intentionally fallen so that people wouldn't be suspicious that Peter Parker could suddenly climb the rope, it wasn't his fault that he was stupid and misjudged the fall.

“Why would you pick him up if he’s just your intern?” Dave asked suspiciously. 

“Come on, Dave, keep up,” Mr. Stark said, rolling his eyes, he was now close enough that Peter could smell his cologne, “I told you, the inane babbling grows on you, if you zone him out enough it's like there’s a toddler yapping away.” 

“A toddler?” Peter asked. 

“My name isn't Dave.”

“What is it then?” Peter asked, “because I’m kinda calling you Dave in my head now.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” 

Dave was pissed.

Peter’s Spidey-Senses screamed at him a nano-second before he felt something hard crack against the back of his skull and a dizzy wave overtook him as he fell forward, Mr. Stark caught him just before he hit the ground, which Peter was grateful for as with his hands still cuffed behind his back he would have landed with his face hitting the marble and no way to try and prevent this.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered to Mr. Stark, “I didn't react quick enough, he had the cuffs on before I could think.” 

“Don’t blame yourself,” Mr. Stark replied quietly and he helped the cuffed boy back to his feet, and Peter didn't miss the look of horror as his mentor froze and stared at his own hands that were now tainted with the blood of the kid before him, “you're bleeding?” 

“The cuffs have spikes inside,” Peter said quietly. 

“They wh-”

“Enough waffling,” Dave said with a tone of impatience, “tell your men to put their weapons down otherwise I’ll release.” 

Peter’s gaze instantly fell on Dave’s hand that was holding the wired contraption that looked a lot like what he’d expect a bomb to look like, and then in the other hand was a button and judging from the way his thumb was tensed, he was pressing down which meant…  _ oh.  _

“Mr. Stark, if he releases that…” 

“I know, Kiddo,” Mr. Stark said, Peter saw a muscle in his jaw twitch, “alright, just be careful with that thing.”

“Tell them,” Dave said. 

“Right, guys, you heard him,” Mr. Stark announced, “fall back.”

By that point Peter could hear the law enforcement officers outside discussion tactics and planning to make contact, little did they know that it was pointless, Dave was heading towards his endgame and it was growing more and more clear that this wasn't about money. 

“If you ignite that bomb, you’re going to die,” Mr. Stark said, “is that really what you want?” 

“I don't care,” Dave said, “you destroyed me, Stark, you ruined everything, and now… I’m willing to put my life on the line to get my revenge.” 

“Look, this is getting old,” Mr. Stark said, trying to push Peter behind him, not that Peter would allow that, “we’ve already established that you don't want to die, so spill the truth, did you work here?” 

“No,” the man scoffed, “I would never have demeaned myself in that way.” 

“First: rude, and second, then why are you so pissed off?” 

“Do you remember the new theory that Oscorp Industries released?” Dave asked. 

Mr. Stark scoffed and let out a laugh, “of course this is related to Oscorp, and yes, I do. It was flawed and there was no way to prove it without inhumane human trials that would have risked lives and had a high rate of fatalities.” 

“That was  _ my  _ theory,” Dave shouted, “I was queued up for a promotion, I was going to get the funding to prove it true, and then you made a statement to the press about it and they were suddenly watching us.” 

“So you’re mad you were going to be held accountable?” Mr. Stark asked, “sounds like I did all the participants a favour, really.”

“You-” Dave broke off, visibly shaking with fury, “you don't get to say that, you don't get to-” 

“You need to calm down,” Mr. Stark told him. 

That was apparently the worst thing Mr. Stark, or anyone could have said because Dave was instantly furious. He threw everything he was holding against the ground and Peter was able to see the instantly look of terrified regret on his face that told him enough to act. 

Without the use of his hands, he was limited on what he was able to do, so he used his shoulder and rammed Mr. Stark to the ground with it, the older man was taken aback with the shock of the action and fell easily, just in time for Peter to cover his body with his own as a blast radiated from behind. 

It was hot, Peter thought before his attention turned to the trembling ground and he wondered whether they were unlucky enough to be having an earthquake at the same time. He would have considered it further, and perhaps he would have realised that the building was crumbling around him, but he was hit by something solid and the darkness dragged him under so that he was blissfully unaware of anything further. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is gonna be 3 parts not 2 im sorry sdjkgnsfkjgnskjfng also i'm sorry that the prompt only comes in at the very end, i love a cliff hanger


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whumptober day 5 & 6: prompts - rescue & no more

“-eter, come on Peter, Kid, wake up already.” 

Peter groaned and tried to roll over but found that he was unable to move, that was annoying, he wasn't comfortable at all - in fact, the position he was in was kinda hurting him and he was pretty sure he was lying on his arm and it was going dead beneath his weight. 

“Underoos?” Mr. Stark said his nickname in a singsong voice, and why was Mr. Stark waking him up? Had he fallen asleep in the Workshop again? That would explain why he was so uncomfortable. 

“G’way,” Peter mumbled, trying once more to roll over and finding himself unsuccessful yet again. 

“He lives!” Mr. Stark said with false cheer, but Peter could hear an underlying tension in his voice, had he actually been concerned that Peter wasn't alive? How long had he been trying to wake him up for?

“Mis’er Star’?” Peter asked before frowning and running his tongue along his teeth, there was a strange metallic taste in his mouth, almost like… “Mis’er Star’ why’s blood in m’ mouth?” 

“Peter? Kiddo, don't you remember what happened?” Mr. Stark asked him. 

Peter frowned, why was Mr. Stark waking him up and trying to get him to remember things? It was unfair, he was so tired and he’d been having such a good sleep. With an irritated sigh, Peter forced his eyes open, only to be forced to rapidly blink and dust and grit made their way into them and caused a stinging sensation. 

“Pete,” Mr. Stark prompted. 

“I- uh,” Peter frowned and tried to focus through the throbbing in his head, “there w’s a bomb.” 

“That’s right,” Mr. Stark said gently, more gently than Peter had ever heard which instantly made him frown, what was going on? Was he dying? Is that why Mr. Stark was treating him like glass about to break? 

Peter opened his mouth to ask that question only to be cut off by a yawn, he was so tired, but still so ridiculously uncomfortable. 

“Now, Kiddo,” Mr. Stark said, grabbing his attention once more, “I can see you, can you make your way over here?” 

“No,” Peter mumbled without elaborating. 

“No? Why not?” 

“M’ legs are tr’pped,” Peter said, “‘nd m’ arms are stuck ‘n hurt.” 

“Your arms are stuck because you were cuffed, remember?” Mr. Stark prompted, and Peter vaguely did, he thought he could remember trying to pull away from a bar but a sharp pain and the dripping of blood down his arms had stopped him, “but I don't know about your legs, can you see what’s got them stuck?” 

“Uh,” Peter instantly looked upwards. 

“Your legs, Kiddo,” Mr. Stark said. 

“Can’t you see?” Peter slurred. 

“Sorry, Bud, I kinda need your help on this one,” Mr. Stark said. 

Peter sighed, why was Mr. Stark so determined to stop him from sleeping? It was unfair, he was so tired. So, after a few moments of grumbling loudly - mainly for Mr. Stark’s sake, so he would know Peter wasn't impressed about being kept awake - he finally looked at his legs. 

“Oh,” he mumbled, nausea swirling in his stomach as he tried to force his brain to comprehend what he was looking at, “there- there’s a- a thing.”

“A thing?” Mr. Stark prompted.

“ _ Oh _ ,” Peter gasped, “it hurts!” 

“Peter?” 

Peter let out a strangled scream and hot tears instantly started to roll down his cheeks, carving their way through the grime that was coating them, his legs were in agony, it felt as though they were being ripped and torn apart by the metal beam that was covering his lower limbs, and if that wasn't enough, it was topped off by a concrete slab that had come to rest on top of the beam. 

Some part of Peter registered that he had come close to that beam landing on his head, and he wouldn't have been in any situation to complain about pain then, because he would have been killed instantly. 

“Kiddo, breathe, you’re doing great,” Mr. Stark said soothingly, “just breathe through it, you can do this.”

“Are-” Peter broke off to gasp for breath, it was surprising how much pain could wind a person, he was struggling, “are you- ah- hurt?” 

“Nothing major,” Mr. Stark said, “don’t waste your energy worrying about me, Kiddo.” 

But wasn't that exactly what Mr. Stark was doing? 

“I- I tried,” Peter remembered, fighting the pain as best he could so that he could tell Mr. Stark that he’d done his best.

“I know you did,” Mr. Stark said, but Peter could tell that the man was just agreeing to get him to be quiet, to stop him from wasting his energy, but this was worth wasting energy for, he needed to say this. 

“No,” Peter argued, “no, you don't.” 

“Alright, calm down, I’m listening, alright?” Mr. Stark said, “just try not to move too much.” 

“Ok,” Peter said, having to think hard to force his mouth to form the words properly, “I- I tried… to move you.” 

“Oh, Pete,” Mr. Stark muttered, “I know you did, and I wish you hadn't, you took the brunt of that blast and I should- I should have been the one to do that.” 

Peter laughed, a metallic taste on his tongue, “your ol’ man bones couldn’ handle tha’,” he said, his words beginning to slur again as the adrenaline of seeing the beam of his legs faded and the exhaustion returned. 

“I’m gonna let that slide as long as you wake up, alright Peter?” Mr. Stark asked, but Peter couldn't be bothered to answer, he was just so tired, “Parker, come on now!”

Mr. Stark’s voice had raised suddenly that Peter jolted in shock, “Mis’er Star’ come on,” he said with an undeniable whine in his voice. 

“Kid, I know you’re tired, I know you want to sleep, and I know you’ve done absolutely everything you can to protect me but right now I need to protect you, alright? I need to make sure that I can get you back home to May,” Mr. Stark said, his voice low and serious, “so do me just one more favour, alright? Stay awake, just stay awake until help gets to us.” 

Peter paused and forced his eyes open once more, when had they even closed, “I’ll do m’ best.” 

“That’s all I can ask.”

“Hey, Mis’er Star’?” Peter slurred, “you sure h’lp’s comin’?” 

“Yeah, there was already police outside,” Mr. Stark said, “and besides, it’s not easy to miss something like this, they’re probably digging us out right now.” 

“How long?” 

“Ah, I don’t know,” the older man admitted, “they’ll have to do it carefully, they won’t want to risk this stuff shifting and potentially collapsing further.”

“Tha’ c’n happen?” Peter was alarmed, he was already in so much pain, and fighting so hard to stay awake for Mr. Stark’s sake, he couldn't bear to think about the possibility that the pain could increase, maybe another beam would fall on him. Maybe that one would kill him. 

“Don’t worry, Underoos, they’ll be doing everything they can to prevent that.” 

Peter swallowed heavily, “I don’ wanna die,” he admitted, feeling safe to do so in the oppressing darkness where the threat of his mortality was lingering in the cracks between the concrete slabs and dripping from the broken pipes. 

“You’re not going to die,” Mr. Stark said sternly, Peter wished he could believe him. 

The pain was just too much to bear and he wasn't sure that he could see a way out the other side, he could feel the agony tempting him to give in, to give up. 

“Well th’n, tell help t’ hurry,” Peter slurred, blinking heavily. 

The closer he came to falling asleep the further away the pain seemed to drift and he couldn't help but wonder why Mr. Stark would want him to hold on? 

“PETER!” 

“Huh?” 

“Kid, I’ve been trying to get your attention for minutes,” Mr. Stark said, his voice was no longer gently placating him and carefully trying to convince him to hold on, instead he was panicked.

Peter had caused that. 

_ “There are two heat signatures under you,”  _ a woman’s voice said, she was muffled by everything that was covering him and Mr. Stark. 

“They’re comin’,” Peter mumbled, “Mis’er Star’, they’re comin’” 

“That’s great,” Mr. Stark said, “see, Kid, you just have to hold on a little longer, just a little bit, alright? You’ve held on this long, so I  _ know  _ you can give me a little more time.” 

“I dunno,” Peter mumbled, letting his eyes fall shut. 

“Kid, they’re here, we’re being rescued, don't you dare leave me now, you’ll be on clean-up duty for a year with Dum-E.” 

Peter wanted to laugh at the threat, he wanted to so badly, but he couldn't even muster up a smile. All he could do was lie there, uncomfortable and hurting more than he had ever hurt in his life, and listen. 

“Peter?” 

_ Yeah, I hear you, Mr. Stark,  _ Peter thought,  _ I’m sorry I couldn't do this for you, I’m so sorry, I’m just not strong enough… _

“PETER!”

Just as Peter was ready to let himself fully embrace the darkness, a bright stream of light broke through, illuminating the dust particles in the air and revealing the fresh, outside world. 

“It’s Tony Stark!” someone shouted, “get me extra hands now!” 

“No one fucking touches me until that kid is in an ambulance,” Mr. Stark shouted, “I want him seen first.”

“Mr. Stark, let us help-” 

“Help the kid!” Mr. Stark said, “please.” 

There was a hushed conversation that Peter no longer had the energy to listen to, so he let his eyes fall shut once more… that was until the thing on his legs was shifted and the pain went from excruciating to unbearable. He  _ screamed.  _

“Stop, please!” he shouted as he sobbed and writhed in pain, trying to fight the hands that were holding onto him, “no more! No more!” 

“You’re going to be alright, Mr. Parker, we’re going to get you help,” one of them said. 

But Peter didn't care about that anymore, he just wanted it all to go away, he wanted the pain to stop, he was done. He continued to sob and plead for them to stop touching him - he had been so close to the darkness, he had almost been pain free, why did they have to ‘help’? 

“Alright, you’re out, see that? You’re out,” the person told him. Peter’s eyes opened just a slit, and quickly shut again as the brightness caused them to sting - or maybe that was the remnants of the grit in his eyes, although how his tears hadn't rinsed that all out was beyond him. 

“Sleep?” Peter asked quietly. 

“Not yet,” the person said gently, “almost time, alright?” 

“Hmm,” Peter hummed as he ignored their words and let himself drift into a more pleasant world where he was spending time with May and Mr. Stark. Happy was there too, with his grumpy mutterings. Miss. Potts was holding the attention of the room, and at some point, Ned and MJ appeared. 

It was nice. 

It was pain free. 

He didn't hear Mr. Stark screaming for him as he was also pulled from the rubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo..... :D 
> 
> (there will be a sequel with peter and tony recovering dont kill me pls)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! part 2 (and day 4 of whumptober) should be up tomorrow!! let me know what you thought and you can find me on tumblr @[ephemeralstark](ephemeralstark.tumblr.com)


End file.
